Once upon a time, you were so real to me but now, he doesn’t want me—at least not yet.
Because I am a liar, a deceiver, a goat, a child. What would he do with a child like myself?
I put this on me. I caused it all. My selfishness and low self-esteem finally got me. I should have just let him go. I shouldn’t have placed that terrible sign in my eyes and lips that I was a woman in search of a last minute romance when I knew it would indeed backfire. How far can I keep doing this to him, huh? How far? Util he catches up with one of my mistakes?
I laugh. Emma, is that what you want? For him to know and then leave you? I often ask myself—myself… myself… hmm… Who is myself again?
I need to calm down, it’s happening again. Deep breaths but they’ve all stopped working. Nothing works anymore. Nothing makes sense. And there goes the coffee brewer screaming at me. But my bad, I forgot you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry that I left you. I’m sorry…
…Coffee. No, tea. Yes, tea, that’s what I wanted. I never drink coffee, it gives me headache and I can’t sleep. Where, where, just where did he keep it—it? What am I looking for?
The rice burnt again for the third time today. I wanted to make him something. I want to do something for him but I failed again.
Last night I burnt our new soup and he had to eat out, and today, I’ve done it again. Same old stupid mistakes! How dumb is he, can’t he see that I’m already falling apart?
…Sometimes I forget the sound of a ring tone. I thought it was an alarm, so I cut it off. But it just keeps going off, like an alarm, so I picked up the phone and it says slide to answer. The person sounded worried. She wanted to know if I would be coming to work today, she said I had to; I was the boss. Boss—but where? How? I don’t have a job. I… I… ah! I remember now. An unfortunate smile flashes across my face. I am the boss. I own a company once owned by father. I repeat my words to myself a thousand times. It makes sense as far as I can remember.
…Ugh! I’ve been trying to get this ring off my finger but it stays stock there. My fingers are fat. I don’t know why? Then he comes in—a strange mister. He comes in with a smile and opens his arms for a hug.
I take a step back, I’m scared, I don’t… I don’t know who he is. He looks at me stunned when I flinched away from his hold. He asked what’s wrong and I told him to get out.
“Get out!” I screamed at him. “Get out!”
I began to pace back and forth. I frantically ran my fingers through my hair. I’m losing my mind, Femi.
I tell him to fuck off before my… before my husband comes in. He slowly knees in front of me and takes my hand and places his other hand on my stomach. I look down at my swollen stomach and then back him with eyes as wide as the sea. I’m pregnant? I ask myself. I’m pregnant. Damn it! I forgot again.
He wants to know if it’s the baby that’s been the cause of my mood swings lately. He’s been asking that for the past month since I began to act strange. I can’t bring myself to tell him. I don’t even know where to start. I don’t know this man; I don’t know him so how can I tell him my secret? I can’t remember him because I’ve turned into a dummy—a sick woman.